


A Plan for Justice

by TheLightFury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Developing Relationship, Draco and Ron Bond, Drinking, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Relationship, Spin the Bottle, Truth or Dare, a mash up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26466250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLightFury/pseuds/TheLightFury
Summary: A game of truth or dare goes awry when Harry mistakes his childhood for a funny story, and for once, Draco and Ron agree on something; Harry's childhood wasanythingbut funny.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 438





	A Plan for Justice

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw a post (link below) on tumblr and, at @bees-go-buzz's request, wrote my headcanon as a drabble, and here it is! Thanks to curlyy_hair_don't_care for the beta and screams! Any errors are mine and mine alone :) Hope you enjoy!
> 
> https://gnarf.tumblr.com/post/621445878551543808#notes

“And then they locked me in a cupboard!” 

Of all the things Harry had expected to meet his laughter, stunned silence definitely wasn’t one of them. But, as he looked at the array of awkward, uncomfortable, and downright horrified faces of his classmates, he realised he'd done it again. He’d mistaken the truth about his childhood for a funny story. 

He really shouldn’t play Truth or Dare.

“Is that true?” a haughty, snobby voice finally broke the suffocating silence. 

Everyone's eyes weighed heavily on him, lodging words in his throat.

"Er—"

“Fuck off, ferret," Ron thankfully jumped in. “Harry doesn’t need your pointy nose and whiskers in his business.”

Automatically, heat flushed violently up Malfoy's neck, his sharp inhale seeming to echo around the room. But as their classmates did their best impressions of meerkats, Harry quickly grabbed the bottle.

“My turn to spin,” he called, immediately setting it in motion. Slowly, all eyes turned back to the centre of the room and, reluctantly, hackles lowered. But when the bottle selected Neville, the small ripple of anticipation through the crowd shouted his victory. 

He'd had enough drama to last a lifetime. Tonight, there were more important things to worry about.

*

Parvati sang horribly. Goyle grinded against Zabini. Hermione flashed Malfoy. And a few hours later, the heavy atmosphere that had surrounded them for those few, horrifying moments had almost been entirely forgotten, swept away by the flood of alcohol poured into everyone’s glasses. But as Harry laughed with his friends, the heat of eyes followed his every movement. And from Ron’s growls, he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. 

“What’s your problem, you prick?” Ron rounded on Malfoy when the git had the audacity to come over. Well, had the audacity to get a refill of his drink when they were stood by the drinks table, that was… 

“I could ask you the same question, Weasel,” Malfoy sneered, “but as always, you're not worth my time." Leaving Ron's ears flushing dramatically, Malfoy turned abruptly to Harry. "You still owe me an answer, Potter.”

Harry frowned.

“I don’t _owe_ you anything, Malfoy,” he replied quietly as Ron exclaimed indignantly beside him. To his credit, Malfoy paused, a slight crease appearing on his forehead. 

"Though it pains me to say it, Potter, you're right,” Malfoy sighed after a moment. “You don't owe me anything. I just... wondered."

“Well you can go ‘wonder’ somewhere else, ferret,” Ron snarled. "I told you before: Fuck. Off." But as Malfoy sighed and grit his teeth, making to move away, Harry found himself grabbing his pale, thin wrist. 

"Why?" he blurted, eyeing Malfoy warily. An equally guarded gaze met his.

"I recently learned that not everything is as it seems," he said with a faint, feigned air of superiority. It soured into a glare as Ron snorted.

"Is that prat-speak for 'learned dearest Daddy had everything arse-backwards'?" he taunted. Harry swatted at him. Ron simply shrugged. 

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"It means," Malfoy gritted out, shooting Ron a murderous look before turning back to Harry. "It never occurred to me that my preconceptions about your childhood could be… inaccurate."

As Ron snorted again and asked if Malfoy knew how to pronounce the word "wrong", Harry paused. Technically he'd already told his whole year, even if some of them wouldn't believe him. And technically he’d seen a whole other side to the nitwit since the beginning of term—who knew Draco my-father-will-hear-about-this Malfoy was actually funny?!—but they were hardly best friends. Still, as pointy shoulders slumped slightly, Harry’s Gryffindor streak struck again.

"It's true,” he blurted, ignoring disbelieving stares from both Ron and Malfoy. “I don't know what you thought my childhood was like, Malfoy, but I can almost guarantee you it was nothing like you expected."

The bass thudded around them. Their classmates danced. No one moved. Then,

“They starved you?” Malfoy demanded.

“Yeah.”

“—And beat you?”

“Yup.”

“—And they _locked you_ in a _cupboard?!”_

“The cupboard under the stairs, actually.”

A noise of horror escaped Malfoy’s throat, but for once, nothing else followed. Slowly, as Malfoy's mouth opened and closed in a fantastic impression of a codfish, Ron relaxed. 

“Oh my god,” he breathed, stepping towards Malfoy slightly. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“‘See the day’ what, Ron?” Harry asked, completely befuddled as to why tiny invisible strings suddenly seemed to have attached themselves to Malfoy’s eyebrows and were pulling them up and down faster than a techno beat. 

“He’s livid!” he exclaimed, pointing at the still-mute Malfoy. “He’s as mad as I was when I found out about them putting bars on your window after First Year!”

"They did _WHAT?!_ " 

The sudden outburst sent Harry jumping out of his skin—Ron too, if his colourful language was anything to go by—and as Malfoy abruptly advanced, shoulders hunched and eyes raging, Harry automatically stepped back.

"Yeah!" Ron recovered. "Me and my brothers had to go rescue him with our flying car!"

"And then you just _left them there?!_ " Malfoy all but screeched.

"Well, we had to get back before Mum found out we'd gone—"

"But they _got away_ with treating him like that?!"

"Well, kinda, but—"

"But nothing, Weasley!" Malfoy snapped. "I have never been so disappointed in you. This is unacceptable. You will rectify it this instant!" Grabbing Ron's elbow, Malfoy made for the quietest corner with a table and chairs, spouting all the way. "You've been to their address, yes? You can help us come up with a plan for justice."

"'A plan for justice'?" Harry stuttered, half-jogging to keep up. "Whoa, what are you on about? You don't need to go… _rectify_ anything. It was a long time ago and I never have to see them again now and—"

"And nothing, Potter." Malfoy's ferocity rivalled McGonagall's as he rounded on him in the middle of the throng. "They're lucky to be _alive_ thanks to you! You can't just let them get away with this abomination! Gryffindors, honestly!"

With renewed vigour, Ron and Harry were frogmarched to the table. Within moments, quills, parchment, and ink had been summoned, a blueprint of the house had been drawn up, and a list of everything the Dursley’s held dear had been compiled. 

“For justice,” Draco affirmed defiantly. For once, Harry didn't dare challenge him.

As the ‘plan for justice’ evolved faster than he could say ‘Quidditch’, Harry’s head span, all protests either being viciously ignored and shushed, or drowning at the sight of Ron and Malfoy actively working with each other. Together, they were quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with, and as they grinned— _grinned—_ at each other, Harry's stomach churned. Only when they high-fived—high-fucking-fived!—one another and sprang up to grab their cloaks, did he find his voice again. 

“Wait, so you’re doing this?” he asked, blinking between them and the neat, detailed list of bullet points. The words 'Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder', 'Interrogate', and 'Garden' made his mouth run dry.

“Of course, Potter,” Malfoy frowned, already half-way out the door. “Did you think I just spent the last 15 minutes contemptibly close to your Weasel for my own health?”

“Hey!” Ron protested as Harry rolled his eyes. Still, the normality was refreshing.

“But they—I mean, I—I don’t—”

“Harry.” Firm hands suddenly sat squarely on his shoulders, silencing his splutters. “We’re doing this.”

Steely eyes stared into his, swirling with fury, defiance, and determination. But somewhere, hidden behind the rage, a glimmer of something else—something much, much softer—hid. Suddenly, years of unspoken truths surrounded them, drowning out the pulsing bass. As invisible weight crushed him from all sides, Harry’s breath caught.

Only able to give a tiny nod, he swallowed, drowning in Malfoy’s eyes for a moment longer before he and Ron disappeared through the door. As the rest of his year danced and grinded their night away, Harry finally managed a deeper breath.

He needed another drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! Come and find me on Tumblr :) @april-thelightfury115


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